October (2 page)

1 OCTOBER

92 days to go…

I’d fled that house of horror in a flash, over the sagging barbed-wire fence and into the night.

I ran across the desert sand, kicking up a shadowy cloud behind me. I was spurred on by the bouncing beams of torchlight following me, Snake and Jacko’s shouts and, even more
terrifying
, Sniffer’s barking.

My legs and arms pumped, propelling me over the hard ground and past scattered pieces of
corrugated
iron and dried-up animal remains.

I didn’t know how those two old guys were keeping up with me, but they were, and from the sound of Sniffer’s barking, I could tell they were getting closer.

A shot rang out, and I dived to the ground. Was it a warning shot, or had they fired at me?

I spat dust out of my mouth, crawled to my feet and kept running.

I couldn’t shake them off. The terrain was
changing as I ran, and now I was avoiding rocky outcrops and low bushes. I was desperate to find a way of throwing Sniffer off the track. If only I could find a waterway—a creek, or a stream, like I’d waded through at Blackwattle Creek—so the dog would lose my scent.

Who was I kidding? This was a desert. There were no rivers in this place.

The dog was gaining on me—they must have let him off his leash. I wasn’t sure how far Snake or Jacko were trailing behind, but Sniffer had
galloped
ahead of them and his barking was getting louder and louder. I figured I only had seconds before he’d be able to pounce on me and rip me to shreds.

Panicking, I crashed straight into a dense, thorny bush.

I dived down and burrowed into the prickly leaves, wrenching my backpack behind me as I copped painful scratches all over. I huddled there in a small hollow, trying to catch my breath, my blood pounding in my veins. I had hoped, for a second, that maybe if I hid in this prickly bush, the dog would give up … but I knew there was no chance of that actually happening. I just didn’t know what else to do. I couldn’t outrun the dog.

Sniffer bounded right over to the bush.

I held my breath as his bulky head turned my way. His nose dropped to the floor, sniffing, leading him directly to me.

He put his head under the bush, avoiding the worst of the thorns, and started worming his way in.

‘Go away, boy,’ I begged softly, as his warm breath hit my cheek. ‘Please, Sniffer, go away.’

His snout was just centimetres from me. I’d have to jump up and make another break for it, shove him out of the way and run—if he didn’t rip my face off first.

Sniffer growled and I wriggled as far away from him as I could.

But then his snout suddenly disappeared.

I peered through the foliage and could just make out his shadowy silhouette against the deep darkness of the night. He was a couple of metres away, sitting back on his haunches. His bulky body was still, and he was silent. He knew I was there, but he was staying away.

Was he just waiting, like a marker, for his masters to catch up so that they could drag me out of the thorny bush themselves?

The gravelly voices of the men approached. They were still some distance away, but the beams of light from their torches were becoming
brighter, lighting up dust and insects in the air. If I ran now I’d be clawed down in seconds.

I waited, tense and terrified. At any moment I expected the dog to explode into a barking frenzy.

‘Sniffer,’ I whispered. ‘Please don’t show them where I am. Please don’t bark!’

He turned towards me and growled. A long line of drool hung from his mouth. He dashed over and started charging into the thorns again.

‘No, please,’ I begged, wishing I’d just kept quiet. ‘Leave me alone. Go away!’

He pushed and shoved his way through the bush and right up to my face. I braced myself for a brutal attack, closing my eyes and gritting my teeth.

But instead of the sensation of teeth clamping down on me, I felt a wet, leathery lick run all the way up my face.

I froze. He nuzzled in further and continued licking the dusty sweat off my face.

When he stopped he gave a little grunt and then started to wriggle backwards, out from under the bush.

Finally clear, he bounded away from where I was hiding, barking as he ran through the desert. He was leading the bounty-hunting men with the shotgun and torches in another direction!

He hadn’t given me away! The dog didn’t blow my cover!

Huddled and shaking, I watched with relief as their torchlight snaked further and further from me. Maybe some dogs were better than humans at telling good from bad.

I stared up at the brilliant stars above me as Sniffer’s barking faded into the distance. ‘Good dog,’ I whispered.

When all was quiet, and all signs of torchlight had disappeared, I crawled out from my prickly position. I tried to remember where the main road was, and started running for it. I just hoped my memory of the map in Jacko’s general store was accurate enough.

I thought I’d heard something—the sound of a distant truck. Was I imagining it? I stopped, straining to listen, then I heard it again. It sounded like of one those huge semi-trailers that own the night roads, speeding along with a mind of their own.

I jogged until I could see a brilliant light on the horizon. After jogging a few more metres the powerful light divided in two—two blazing
headlights. Finally the truck drove into full view, illuminating the darkness. I watched the lights continue along the roadway until they vanished across the landscape.

Where there was one, there would be more, but no matter how thirsty and tired I was, I wasn’t about to risk taking a ride from
anyone
. I was just happy I was free, alive and had the road to help guide me home.

I ducked for cover as another truck thundered along the road. I’d been trying to stay out of sight, worried someone would spot me and
recognise
me, and also worried that Snake and Jacko had hit the road searching for me after their dog had failed to help them.

Once the truck had passed, I walked on. All I could think of was my thirst, and cool, clear water.

I wandered along near the highway, weakening with every step from exhaustion and dehydration.

The truck had almost reached me before I even noticed its headlights on my back. Fear of being spotted put a bomb under me. I ran and dived onto the ground and scrambled behind some boulders.

The unmistakable sound of huge pressure brakes being pulled, screeched into the air.

I’d been seen! He was pulling over!

The big rig veered to the side of the road and slowed to a stop. It was just metres from me.

Desperate, I looked around for somewhere
better
to hide, but I was in a bit of a clearing—there was nowhere to run for more cover!

The cabin door opened and the driver jumped down. Instinctively I reached for the handle of the knife and waited, tense with fear. I’d have to scare him off. But then instead of coming straight for me, the driver launched out of the truck and kept running, stopping only to awkwardly unzip his pants.

He was stopping for a pee!